Arrangements for Michael - Part 9

 

Ninth Letter

 

Olive Jefferies to Edith Hudson

 

 

My Dearest Edith, 

Michael’s tartan mini-kilt arrived safely you’ll be pleased to hear… which is more than Michael was when he saw it! I say mini-kilt but really, Edith, I think it would be more appropriate to call it a micro-kilt! I don’t think you could have found one any shorter! (I do apologise for the liberal use of exclamation marks… sometimes they are so overused, but I can’t think of any other way of expressing my astonishment at the brevity of the little kilt you sent for Michael to wear). 

Brenda was thrilled to see the whole costume (you really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, although the effect is quite something to see). I agree that while white knee socks and black, single strap mary-janes are probably not completely authentic, they do, nonetheless look especially sweet on Michael. I think the white socks coming to just a couple of inches below his knees simply draws one’s attention to the enormous expanse of very bare thigh exposed below his micro-kilt! (Dear me, another one of those pesky exclamation marks again!). 

Yes, you may gather from that, that we lost no time in getting Michael (however reluctantly!) to try on his new costume. Brenda helped me get the white blouse, all ruffles and trimmed lace (simply gorgeous!), tucked neatly into the pleated micro-kilt. A tartan sash over the shoulder and the glengarry bonnet set the whole costume off rather well. 

As you requested Brenda and I checked the length of the micro-kilt by having Michael stand at attention and place his hands with his palms flat against his legs and I’m pleased to say that the hem of the micro-kilt only just reached his wrists as you said it should. 

There is just one question, dear Edith. Do you think Michael should be allowed to wear anything underneath his micro-kilt? The reason I ask this is because, as you can imagine, Michael’s penis is easily visible below the hem of his tiny kilt especially if it gets caught in a gust of wind, or Michael makes a sudden movement. And I hardly need explain to you how his pert little bottom is shown off, quite bare for all to see, when he makes the slightest attempt to bend forwards! 

His penis at erection lifts the front of his micro-kilt right up and the pleats fall away from each side of his hairless organ leaving the front of his thighs at each side with little tartan drapes. The effect is rather amusing. It looks just as though he’s about to toss his little caber! (Please excuse my silly joke, dear Edith, but Michael was so mortified when it first happened that his instinct was to try and hide his stiff little penis back between his thighs and… well I’m sure you can imagine what he looked like!)  

Of course the sight of Michael’s penis poking out from underneath his micro-kilt doesn’t in the least bother any of us here. And I don’t suppose for one minute any of our neighbours will give a hoot about it either way, no matter how embarrassed Michael might be. How do the little Scottish boys get along with their mini-kilts? Their kilts are not as brief as Michael’s, I know, but it might be worth asking your friends if boys ‘north of the border’ are allowed to wear anything underneath their kilts. I was thinking of nothing more than a small posing-pouch at most. However, I leave the decision up to you, dear Edith. 

Brenda, who’s been reading up about traditional dance, promised to show Michael the Gay Gordons. It was so funny to see the look on his face when Brenda mentioned it. Poor lamb, I think he got quite the wrong idea!

 

Now, on to another subject… 

It is with great sadness that I have to tell you that I have been forced to withdraw Brandon’s masturbation privileges. I had better tell you everything as it involves your naughty step-son Michael… well you probably guessed that, didn’t you? It all started after Brenda, Tyler and I came back from Dr Langham’s with Michael after his examination. As I mentioned in my previous letter it had been a very long day and I asked Brenda to supervise Brandon and Michael’s bathtime, while I took care of Tyler’s. 

I’m afraid Brandon kicked up quite a fuss when he was told of the arrangement. He started shouting that he didn’t want his twin sister to see him bare-nude and he didn’t see why Michael should see him in the nude either! Well, the idea that a 13 year old schoolboy should make such a fuss put me on my guard straightaway. Was Brandon trying to hide something? I confess dear Edith that I’d not seen Brandon nude for a couple of years, not since he was a rather less inhibited 11 year old! What a change from his present performance! 

Well, Edith, I didn’t have the time or patience to argue with Brandon and simply told him and Michael to go to the boys’ bedroom and get prepared for their bathtime. Michael quickly ran off upstairs while Brandon followed, with his bottom lip pushed out showing all the signs of a major sulk. 

Brenda very kindly offered to help me with Tyler. We got him undressed in the kitchen before we took him upstairs where Brenda (bless her!) had already run the bath. I watched Brenda as she washed Tyler’s hair, rinsed it off and then had him stand up for a good scrub down with the flannel. Well, we soon had Tyler looking nice and clean. Then Brenda asked me why Brandon was making such a fuss. 

I’ve already told you how when Brandon was younger he was happy to let his sister Brenda see him at bathtime and, just as happily, let her help me bathe him. Tyler would share Brandon’s bath as a matter of course and between us, Brenda and I would soon have the boys scrubbed clean, dried and into their pyjamas and ready for bed. 

Now two years might be a long time in a boy’s life, but it doesn’t excuse rude behaviour and the sort of temper-tantrum we’d seen from Master Brandon. I was determined to nip this sort of behaviour in the bud. 

“Brandon’s been very naughty, hasn’t he mummy?” Brenda said and she was right. 

I tried to think why Brandon would suddenly behave in this way. There’s certainly no place for false modesty in this house! Brandon might be a thirteen year old, but he has no right to refuse changes to his bathtime routine. 

I thought back to earlier bathtimes… One of the games the boys loved to play in the bath was ‘Submarines’. It was harmless fun and quite sweet to see my two young boys playfully shouting, “up periscopes”. They would have a competition to see whose ‘periscope’ could rise furthest out of the soapy suds of the bathwater. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but it always seemed as if Tyler’s periscope came out best, even though he’s two years younger than Brandon. But as I said, it was all such harmless fun and even if I did give the matter of Brandon’s little periscope any thought, it was that with the approach of puberty it wouldn’t be long before he would be able to beat Tyler in the ‘battle of the periscopes’. 

This thought went through my mind as Brenda led Tyler along the landing to his room to get him dressed in a fresh pair of pyjamas. The next thing I heard was Brenda shouting: 

“Let me in! Let me in this minute! Brandon! Michael! Open this door immediately!” 

What on earth was going on? I wondered. Brandon and Michael had somehow barricaded themselves in the boys’ bedroom, but it didn’t take me more than a few seconds before I was able to force my way through the door… 

Both boys had certainly taken off their clothes as they had been told, but… they were engrossed in a most unseemly ‘game’. It appears that Brandon wanted to hear all about Michael’s visit to Dr Langham; how he was examined and most of all how he was ‘milked’. Brandon had coerced Michael into showing what had happened, only this time the ‘subject’ was Brandon himself! Clearly Brandon had reached the stage at which he was about to release sperm, but when he looked up and saw his mum, sister and younger brother all looking at him, he told Michael to stop. 

Michael did as he was told but held onto Brandon’s penis. At least I think that’s what he was doing as I couldn’t see Brandon’s penis at all! It was clearly completely enveloped in Michael’s fist. 

“Brandon Jefferies! What do you think you’re doing?!” I snapped. As I’ve said Edith, it had been a very long day and the last thing I needed was to have to deal with this sort of behaviour. 

Michael jumped out of the way when he saw how annoyed I was. I could see that it really wasn’t Michael’s fault, but as he is the older boy, he must take his share of responsibility for what I saw. However, what struck me more than anything was how tiny Brandon’s penis was now that Michael had taken his hands away. Brandon’s penis didn’t appear to have developed at all in the two years since I’d seen it last! Even in its fully erect state (which it was) I don’t think it could have been much more than an inch long at most. Brandon was red-faced, as well he might be, but I think that had more to do with his embarrassment at revealing his small penis to everyone than what he had been up to with Michael. 

True enough I could see that he had started to sprout a few little boy-hairs, just as Tyler had told us all at Dr Langham’s, but they really weren’t much to look at, Edith. It was at that moment I decided that a suitable punishment for Brandon would be the removal of that silly little fluff of hair and for Brandon to remain without any pubes at all at least until Michael started to sprout a few, if not longer. That way there would be three pleasingly smooth boys; all equals in one respect at least. For poor Brandon though, it looked as if he’d never win a game of ‘up periscopes’ against Tyler or Michael! 

Brandon tried to protest his innocence, but merely added to his disgrace by trying to blame Michael for his behaviour. All he did was to succeed in strengthening my resolve to give him a lesson he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. You see, dear Edith it was at that precise moment I realised how foolish I’d been. Please don’t misunderstand me, but in looking after Michael I’d been focussing my attention on his behaviour and trying to emulate your magnificent work, but at the same time completely ignoring the deterioration in Brandon’s behaviour. My eldest son had simply been getting away with far too much recently and it was time for a change. Brandon needed to be taken down a peg or two. I knew he would kick up a fuss, but it would be for his own good in the long term. 

“That’s quite enough, Brandon!” I told him, “There’s going to be some changes around here… and the first of those changes is going to happen right this minute!” 

With that I took Brandon by the ear and lifted him up until he was struggling to keep his balance. All thoughts of his modesty were gone as he pleaded for me to let go. Michael, I noticed, stood solemnly by with his hands folded behind his back… what a difference in behaviour! Even though Michael was bare-nude, just like Brandon, he made no attempt to ‘cover-up’. 

“Brenda… go and fetch the little scissors from my work-basket and bring them up to the bathroom. Then I shall want you to help me with Michael and Brandon…” 

It was as though Brandon’s behaviour had given me a second wind, but whatever it was, I was determined that there were going to be changes! And, yes, the first of those was to be the complete removal of the silly little wisps of fluff at the base of Brandon’s penis. I had not the slightest doubt in my mind, now that I’d seen an example of his behaviour that Brandon was boasting about his ‘pubic hair’ to boys in his class at school. He’d certainly convinced Tyler that his few straggly hairs constituted ‘proper’ pubes. Well Brandon was going to learn that he would have to wait a while longer before he could start to boast about his ‘hairs’. 

It wasn’t until I’d got Brandon into the bathroom that he realised what my intentions were. Michael had followed us and stood nervously by the side of the bath watching. Brenda appeared with the little scissors and I ordered both nude boys to stand up straight. I’m afraid to say that Brandon put up such a struggle that I was forced to tell Michael to pin Brandon’s arms behind his back. Michael, being a year older and the stronger of two, managed to keep Brandon still by bracing himself firmly against Brandon’s back. 

Once Michael had a firm hold of Brandon, Brenda turned and asked: “Mummy can I do it?” 

Hearing this Brandon started to struggle again and pleaded not to have his little hairs snipped off by Brenda (well, Edith, that’s putting it mildly. Brandon made such a fuss). All Brandon’s shouting and wriggling was so noisy that Tyler came to see what was happening and I decided to let him stay and watch his older brother having his pubes removed. 

“Please, mummy…” Brenda repeated. 

“Alright darling, but be very careful…” 

Brandon struggled even more and in doing so pushed his hips this way and that making his little penis jiggle about and bounce up and down. Michael, being stronger, managed to hold Brandon steady enough for Brenda to take hold of Brandon’s penis and push it out of the way. 

“Brandon,” I said, “I’d advise you to keep quite still now while Brenda tidies you up…” 

The look of horror on Brandon’s face was priceless, Edith. He strained to look down at himself (Michael had managed to get him into a full-Nelson) and a tear came to his eyes as he watched Brenda snip his straggly little boy-hairs of which he was inordinately proud. 

I knelt down beside Brenda and pointed out a couple of little hairs she’d missed and between us we snipped off the last few little hairs at the base of Brandon’s penis. Then it was a simple matter of a few strokes with a razor and Brandon was as smooth and hairless as Michael and Tyler; a little boy once more. 

I’m afraid to say that Brandon was by now crying. The tears ran down his face, but they didn’t impress me in the slightest. Brandon had got what was coming to him, so without more ado I ordered both boys into the bath; Michael at one end and Brandon with his back to Michael sat between Michael’s open legs. 

Brenda took over the shampooing of their hair and made the boys squeeze up close together so that she could do both of them at the same time. So Michael had to put his arms around Brandon (who was still sniffling) and rest his chin on Brandon’s shoulder. How sweet they looked, Edith! Both boys had their eyes scrunched closed as Brenda made a thorough job of washing their hair and as she did so I determined to take both boys for a haircut the following day. Michael was due for a trim in any case and I thought it was about time that Brandon had a proper schoolboy haircut as well. 

Once their hair was done Brenda set about washing the boys; arms and then legs as the boys slithered about in the bath. I left Brenda to it since Tyler was still bare-nude after his bath and needed to be put into his pyjamas. So I took him back to his bedroom and took the opportunity for a little chat. 

“Now Tyler I want you to understand why mummy and Brenda had to snip off Brandon’s little boy-hairs,” I told him, “Brandon has been very naughty and was in need on a lesson. I’m afraid things are going to be a bit different for him from now on…” 

“Have I been naughty, mummy?” Tyler asked. 

“No dear, you’ve been very helpful since Michael arrived and I want you to carry on being helpful. There such a lot of work for Brenda and me to do with boys like Brandon and Michael to take care of, so I’ll expecting you to be on your best behaviour and you mustn’t be afraid to tell mummy if you think Brandon's been doing something he shouldn’t…” 

To my surprise Tyler straightaway said: “… like playing with his willy, mummy?” 

“Yes, darling, that’s just the sort of thing that Brandon has to stop doing. Michael’s not allowed to play with himself, so I don’t see why Brandon should be allowed to either.” 

By the time I got back to the bathroom Brenda had both boys standing up while she set about them with a soapy flannel. Brandon and Michael had been told by Brenda to stand with their hands on top of their head and she was busily rubbing the flannel over Michael’s armpits making him squirm and giggle. 

“Keep still Michael!” she said. “I’m not going to stand for any nonsense from you boys.” 

Well, Edith, Brenda certainly had those two boys under control… Heaven help them if they misbehave when Brenda’s in charge! 

It was a somewhat chastened Brandon who was put into his pyjamas that evening. He was clearly overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events, but as a mother yourself, Edith, you know these things have to be done. Although boys may not realise it at the time, mums only do what they know is best for their sons. 

Dear me, I’m afraid this has turned into another rather long letter, Edith, so I think I’d better sign off now. Please let me have your thoughts on whether Michael should be allowed to wear anything under his micro-kilt.

 

With my warmest regards,

 

Olive